


Two Hydrangea and a Liatris

by ChibisUnleashed



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Bruise is a beautiful shade of loathing, Crack, Fluff and Crack, M/M, The abridged language of flowers, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7206938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Floral arranging is an under-appreciated art, and Pitch Black is sure there is an arrangement out there that can properly express his feelings. He just has to find the right florist to do it.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Jack is well-versed in this kind of feeling and the perfect man for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t say anything about my inspiration or the things I choose to write, anymore.
> 
> Inspired by [this post](http://zombb-8.tumblr.com/post/145887655208/flower-shop-au) and I haven’t decided how sorry I am, yet.

There were only so many surprises in a flower shop. Most people wanted birthday bouquets, get well soon, Mother’s day was popular, whole wedding contracts, plenty of funeral pieces, lots of ‘I’m sorry’ and other renditions of make-up bouquets, but every once in awhile…

Every once in awhile a total stranger would walk in and want something  _ different.  _

Twenty bucks didn’t get anyone very far in a flower shop, not even this handsome, dark stranger who called himself, ‘Pitch,’ but Jack had skills at working inside a budget, and more importantly, Jack was an  _ artist.  _

Of the college art class variety.

Which meant a passive-aggressive, ‘Go have sex with yourself,’ bouquet was a challenge  _ gladly  _ accepted.

He often wanted to say, ‘Fuck you,’ but he often did not get  _ paid _ for it.

So after a somewhat lengthy discussion of the language of flowers and how most people wanted to express  _ love  _ with it and not all that regularly  _ self-love,  _ about the necessary beauty of a bouquet full of loathing and the color theory that might be involved, and about the amount of disposable income an individual might choose to invest in wishing ill of another, they came to a simple solution.

A bruise-colored, erect penis, in flowers.

Pitch stared at the purple and blue arrangement for several quiet seconds before he reached into his wallet and produced a second twenty.

“What’s that for?” Jack asked with a puzzled look.

“I need a second one,” he answered, face straight as Jack wasn’t, “for my dining table. Nothing says, ‘good morning!’ like strong coffee and balls in your face.”

Jack instantly bit his lip, balled fist pressed to his lips to keep the laughter inside. It hurt so  _ good.  _

The moment he had control back, Jack pressed his hands to the counter and met Pitch’s gaze, “I  _ need  _ to date you.”

One dark eyebrow rose, “Are you sure you don’t mean you need to fuck me?”

Jack steadfastly shook his head, “Nope. I’m pretty sure I want to get to know you.”

“Far be it from me to deny you,” Pitch sighed, sliding a card across the counter. 

It had a number scribbled along the back and Jack wondered just when Pitch had found a second to do that. Sneaky bastard.

Jack pocketed the card and grabbed the new bill, “I’ll get you your second ballsack and then, say… Tomorrow at five? The coffee shop on the corner?”

“Sounds good,” Pitch agreed with a little smirk, leaning his elbow on his side of the counter, “I’ll even treat you to a cookie. That is, if you’re well-behaved.”

“My  _ best  _ behavior,” Jack grinned as he grabbed a second dick-flower,  _ “Promise.”  _


	2. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then I wrote this.

“Good morning!”

Pitch groaned and blinked awake at the sudden weight on his chest. It took a couple seconds for his vision to clear, but that was fine, because that shade of pale and a shock of white was recognizable even when hopelessly blurred, “Jack?...”

The young man had a mug in his hand, and he raised it in greeting.

“I also have some strong coffee for you.”

Ah, yes. To go with the warm, naked balls in Pitch's face. He got it. He understood.

And he smiled, because truly, he'd gotten everything he asked for, and more.

“And good morning to you, too.”


End file.
